


Reunion

by Artdefines06



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Ending, Awkward Flirting, Eventual Romance, Gender Fluid Felix, Gender Identity, Happy Ending, Head Cannons based on my playthough, M/M, Older and Wiser Sylvain, Six years after the war is over, Verdant Wind route, dancer felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-16 14:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20843102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artdefines06/pseuds/Artdefines06
Summary: Once the war was over and the Flame Crest banners came down, the Golden Deer scattered back to their homes. This included Sylvain, Felix, and Dorothea, who had merely been swept away by the professor's charm and ended up along for the ride to save the world. Home was a lonelier place for them, but at least Sylvain knew he would always have Felix nearby to bother.Except Felix never came home.Six years later and Sylvain still wonders what became of his old friends, and if he will see them again someday.An alternate ending for Felix and Sylvain because the one I got was too sad and I didn't like it.





	Reunion

“Good evening. Welcome to House Gautier.”

“Pleasure to see you again. Welcome to House Gautier.”

“A fine evening indeed. Welcome to House Gautier.”

“Your children are so grown! Welcome to House Gautier.”

“Thank you for joining us. Welcome to House Gautier.”

Sylvain paused his greetings to take the drink offered to him by his attendant. He hardly had time to taste it before another couple, bakers if he remembered correctly, began the ascent up the steps to be greeted personally by the Margrave of the house. It was a large job but one he took pleasure in doing. It helped refresh his memory of the faces he served and was a good way to ensure he did not miss anyone. Even if the one name and face he always looked for never showed.

This was the fourth Feast of Unity. One was held directly after the long war was over and then every two years after that, for what was now a total of six years since he had returned home. Each kingdom opened its doors and coffers to invite everyone to relax together for an evening and learn about each-others customs. Travel to another kingdom was encouraged for many, although the lords always stayed at home for the feast itself and traveled the rest of the year. At the end of each feast, a report was sent directly to King Claude himself detailing new facts you had learned about those at your feast that year. That was entirely too much work so instead, Sylvain had each person who lived or worked in his house write out a summary of their experiences and bundled all the papers together to mail off. Since he had not yet been called out for the lack of his own report, he planned to continue that fine tradition until someone stopped him. 

The sounds of voices and rustling clothes and footsteps grew louder and Sylvain looked up to see a large crowd forming at the base of the steps. What seemed to be two retinues were deciding who should go first. After much hemming and hawing a delicate pair of red slippers began to march up the steps alone, fed up with the indecisiveness. Despite the layers of furs and ruffles on her gown Dorothea made it up a full thirty seconds before her followers managed to figure out they should follow. She held out her hand and Sylvain took it gladly, happy to see an old friend. He ghosted a kiss over her still naked ring finger and idly wondered why she had come all this way.

“A pleasure to see you, Dorothea. Welcome to House Gautier.” 

Contrary as always, she just rolled her eyes and shook her head, chestnut ringlets bouncing around her face.

“I’m thoroughly disappointed by that greeting, Margrave Sylvain! I expected much more praise and had a whole lecture planned on how you should treat unmarried women and that is all I get? A pleasure and welcome? The nerve!”

There was a happy and mischievous spark in her eye that Sylvain could not resist. He nearly never flirted anymore, not like he used to. For her, he dug down and found his old charm.

“If it isn’t the mystical songstress, gracing my house with her endless beauty and talent! Dearest Dorothea, do make sure you save me the pleasure of a dance this evening. I will be terribly distraught if I have to pass the entire feast without you in my arms at least once.”

It was worth it to see the smile that blossomed on her face and hear her laugh. 

“That was much better Syl. Thank you, I needed to hear that. And I do promise you that dance if you aren’t stuck out here all evening.”

With that she drifted into the ballroom, her servants and fans following her hurriedly. 

The next group who had waited patiently at the bottom of the steps was clearly a diplomatic retinue from the Leicester-Almyra Alliance. There were gifts of food and drink that were distributed thought the ball, some important documents with a courier that were sent to his office, and a troupe of performers of all types wearing matching Golden Deer garb bearing the flame crest. Singers, storytellers, jugglers, and a single dancer who was so wrapped in black and gold scarves that only smokey dark eyes with long lashes could be seen as she bowed demurely. Sylvain could hear the party liven up as they made their way in and began their trades and he sent a secret thank you under his breath to his old friends, missing them strongly for a brief moment. 

Eventually, the flow of attendees slowed down enough that he felt safe leaving a greeter to do the job of seeing to the last stragglers. He paused at the top of the steps and looked out across that front yard and to the sunset beyond, subconsciously doing one last futile search for a familiar black ponytail and teal coat he knew would not come. Felix had made it clear he did not want to be associated with his old life in any way and did not want to be found. 

Once inside, the scents and sounds momentarily lifted his spirits. It was good to hear everyone laughing and talking. Looking around he saw hints of the world Claude had envisioned all those years ago. Traders from Sreng were mingling in with the envoys from all over Faerghus. He was sure Claude’s group was making deals for the east as well. He had made sure to offer a variety of meals from all over the kingdom, even if it was only his favorite dishes from each place.

With a sweet roll in one hand for sustenance, he began to make his way around the room for more personal conversations among his guests. Nearly two hours later he dropped into a chair beside Dorothea, absolutely famished. She immediately offered her plate and he practically inhaled the first few pieces of Noa fruit before he slowed down to savor the treat. As they sat together he refueled and she talked, telling stories about the backstage drama of the shows she had worked on since she last saw him. He knew only half an ear was required which was one of the things he loved about her. Then, something caught his attention at the edge of his vision. A flash of bright silk and black velvet shimmering under the lights. Gold scarves flashed and snapped in a maelstrom that scattered those in their path. All awareness was drawn toward the eye of the storm, a dancer whose movements were as quick as a whirlwind, constantly spinning and twisting with no hesitation. There was electricity surrounding the dancer, a charge in the air that had everyone waiting in anticipation for her next move, hoping to be the one to get a hint of attention. He tried to make out her features but thick black hair tied in a loose braid floated around the dancer's face, obscuring it from Sylvain's view. Instead, he focused on her movements, hoping to relax and enjoy the show.

Even if she had not been adorned in the colors of the Deer, Sylvain would have known this dancer was from Claude’s court, and more so that they had been trained by Byleth, their professor. The mix of styles from all over the country could only belong to a traveling mercenary like her. Once again his thoughts returned to Felix because everything seemed destined to remind him tonight. He only knew what the professor's style was because he had seen her train another dancer, one who was much more reluctant to dance even though he had done so with the intense focus and skill he had applied to everything in his life. 

Here, with Dorothea at his side and Felix running through his mind, he couldn’t help but reflect on what had brought them to follow such a crazy leader in the first place. Sylvain had of course accidentally defected from his house, letting his mouth get away from him the first week of school. He had not meant to change allegiance necessarily but couldn’t as a good standing noble go back on his word. Honestly, he fit in nicely amongst the Golden Deer. There was less pressure on him without the future King and his nursemaid Ingrid breathing down his neck. 

The only student the professor spoke of wanting was Dorothea. She threw flowers at her feet and ate teacakes until she turned blue but the women would not budge. In response, Byleth would round everyone up to go fight some bandits or monsters or hold extra lectures. If she was really angry, she would go spar with Felix. Everyone used to gather around to watch them at the training ground. Byleth had the experience and but Felix had the technicality and they both had a taste for blood. Sylvain used to love these bouts because he got to see how Felix was growing as a swordsman and a person. When it was over and he was too exhausted to think he would let Ingrid and Sylvain bring him towels and water and take him to his room and it felt like old times. Over time, Felix claimed to be impressed with the professor's skills in training her students and asked to join the class, which she accepted much to Sylvian's delight. 

However, once he joined he was just as much of a pain as before. He didn’t want to lead a battalion. He did not want to learn to fly or ride or do magic. He showed interest in brawling but Rapheal had that more than covered so the professor was not going to waste her valuable teaching time on him. He continued to languish as a mere swordsman despite wishing to be more. Half of the battles he was left as an adjunct to Sylvain or Catherine and his resentment grew and grew. Finally, a few weeks before the White Heron cup he had it out with her, fully expecting her to cave to his demands. Instead, he found himself attending dance lessons, eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he learned how not to trample her feet. It was the best punishment Sylvain had ever seen. They all cheered from the sidelines, fully ready to see him lose soundly. He won decisively, even against the great Dorothea herself. She joined the Golden Deer a few days later ( and not a minute too late), impressed with how quickly he had learned and wondering if she could do the same under professor Byleth.

As a prize for winning, Claude and Hilda made a dancer costume in blue and silver and they all had a good laugh that night. Felix finally and truly felt a part of the team. He only used it once as another punishment for fighting with Lysithea over eating a cake of all things. It had been a particularly memorable battle against some bandits on the side of a mountain. The Deer only succeeded against the absurdity of it all because the bandits were truly incompetent. Between Sylvain's horse not dealing with stairs and his worry about Felix being dressed in nothing but some satin strips of cloth he had been practically useless, his only savior being his heavy paladin armor and the reflexes drilled into him by the professor to counter-attack without having to think. Instead of paying attention to where his attackers were, he kept trying to look down the mountain to make sure Felix was unharmed, visions of reinforcements suddenly showing up from behind the team impairing his ability to fight. Turned out the worst thing Felix had to encounter was Lorenz’s laughter every time he was forced to dance for him so he could keep up with the rest of the group. In the end, Lorenz got some items to speed him up and Felix was told never to bother dancing again on the battlefield. 

Luckily the dance manual passed down by the church seemed to unlock some latent magical ability in Felix, inspiring the professor to harness it and turn him into a fearsome mortal savant. His thoron strikes were felt across the battlefield. Sylvain himself had been singed by them when an enemy dared to wander too close to his horse's flank, where Felix was always watching his back. He missed those days. Not the fighting but the feeling of closeness, of trust, of knowing everyone lived or died together. Now they were spread out, living their individual lives with only occasional letters or visits. Or, in Felix’s case, simply gone. 

The dancer was drawing closer and a familiar tingling of heat in the air burned under Sylvain’s skin. He tried to focus on the performance but kept being distracted by the dancer herself. He could now see her face but it was heavily made up, with gold shimmer powder highlighting heavily contoured cheekbones and the smokey black-rimmed eyes he had seen earlier. Her lips were painted pure gold and looked full and inviting while pouted in concentration. It was hard not to feel a pull of attraction, and Sylvain did not fight it. 

She was slowing her movements, tossing looks out at the audience like flashes of lightning that left onlookers reeling from the force. She did not smile prettily the way Dorothea had when she danced. Instead, this dancer sent out a challenge with each sultry stare; a dare to watch and become enraptured. She was tall, nearly as tall as he was, and built more like a warrior than a dancer. It struck him as discordant, tugged at his mind that something seemed off about the picture she presented. Her outfit was well-tailored to obscure her broad shoulders and instead highlight her toned waist and wide hips. He wondered if under all the fabric fluttering around her legs he would find the sort of soft wispy legs he so often used to see under skirts, or powerful thick thighs more like…well, his own. The body was familiar; not in that it reminded him of men in general, or even of himself. The feeling was more specific than that - as though he had seen this exact body before, enough to know it at a glance. 

Sylvain sat up straighter to help him focus on this notion, to try to solve the puzzle. The closer the dancer became the more the certainty that he knew this person grew until the feeling welled so large within him it compelled him to stand. As she drew closer still she began clapping, and the crowd took up the rhythm and it pounded along with the beat of his heart. Her feet sped up to match the clapping in a fast and intricate series of steps designed to signal the end of the performance was coming. 

He watched her spin and step and inch closer and closer until she was directly in front of him and then - there! - her last move was not a normal spin but a counter. A technique to parry your opponent's lance away with a sword that he would know anywhere because he had spent days drilling it with none other than Felix himself, who had begged Sylvain to work with him so he could become stronger against lance users. He could not forget the determination blazing in his friend's eyes and had worked himself until he could not lift his weapon anymore, hoping his efforts would be rewarded when Felix stayed alive on the battlefield. It was a memory burned into his body and mind and could not have been a coincidence. The dancer had struck her final pose, one black scarf brandished toward Sylvain like a sword, and the gold one held up against her forehead, covering her face while the crowd roared its applause. Sylvain felt himself clapping as well, knowing he had to acknowledge her skill as the host of the feast, but his mind was traveling at a million miles an hour wondering. Who? What! Why?? 

The dancer bowed, first to the audience behind her and then to Margrave of the house, a deep and reverential bow he was sure he did not deserve. He was ready to scream from confusion. Then she lifted her face and looked directly at him and Sylvain felt all the air leave the room. He would know those golden-brown eyes and the triumphant look in them anywhere. It was Felix. It had to be. 

It was impossible. He was frozen in time, grappling with his insane theory. He must have eaten too many sweets, not slept enough the night before, stood up too quickly. While he tried to find excuses Dorothea stepped up beside him to greet the dancer, compensating for his rude silence. 

“That was absolutely splendid! I could never hope to compare to you! I could not all those years ago and I cannot now. You absolutely must tell me where you have been training and this outfit! I need to find out who your tailor is and why she is not making my costumes!! It was wonderful to see you again, but perhaps you should take Syl here somewhere private before he collapses from shock. Where is a butler? Jance! Could you lead the Margrave and his guest to a sitting room where they can have a word, please? Thank you, dear. Now! Who would like to hear an aria from my latest show to calm ourselves after that invigorating performance?”

Dorothea distracted the guests and his butler led them through the crowd and still, Sylvain's mind could not parse what was happening. Why was Felix dressed like this? Why make-up? Was he in disguise? Did he learn that dance just to keep up with the disguise? Who was he hiding from? Why had he come in Claude’s official retinue? What if this was only a convincing spy sent to confuse him? 

They reached the room, and the door closed as Jance left. It was just the two of them alone. With no one watching and no music playing the dancer seemed less sure, less confident than before. He…she…they looked up at the ceiling, then down at the carpet while they waited for Sylvain to say something. He could not think of anything to say that was not ridiculous, so he simply stayed silent, waiting for more information. When the suspense peaked the dancer croaked out their first unsure sounding words. 

“Hello, Sylvain.”

It was him. It was absolutely him and the familiar voice caused something in Sylvain to break open. His knees buckled and his breath shuddered out and even though he knew it for sure he had to confirm because how could it be possible? He barely whispered out the name and Felix affirmed, a jerky nod of his head and suddenly Sylvain had stepped forward and wrapped himself around his old friend and he knew he shouldn’t, that Felix hated the idea of being held but he could not help himself he had been so scared. Scared to never hear word again. Scared to find he had gone somewhere Sylvain could not follow. To know he was real and home and safe was nearly too much to process. He held him and he quietly cried. He cried for the years lost; all the stories he did not get to tell and moments he did not get to share. He cried for Dimitri and Ingrid who had relentlessly attacked and pursued until there had been no choice but to end the king's pain. He cried for the lost innocent days of youth they would never get back.

He felt Felix shift and knew his time for mourning was almost at an end, that he should collect himself and present a mature face and act like the Margrave he claimed to be before Felix gathered the breath to tell him to do so. He did not want to be chastised, not yet. He just wanted to be in this moment of relief and release. 

Felix’s hands rose but instead of pushing him away they simply rested, feather-light, on Sylvain’s hips. Their center of balance shifted and then there was hair tickling his cheek as Felix placed his head down tentatively, as though he was not sure how. Without thinking about it Sylvain took on more of Felix’s weight, hoping to ease some pressure off his friend, realizing he might also be tired and scared and worried. 

It was a strange feeling, familiar from all the times he had comforted girlfriends as they emptied their souls to him, but new and different because this was Felix and how many times had he wished he could just hold his friend while he stubbornly carried the world on his shoulders? Where had he been and what had he seen that he was willing to show his fragility like this? Sylvain did not really want this moment to end, but he did want to make sure that there was no danger. As gently as possible, he prodded for information.

“Are you alright? Are you in any danger? Can I help you in any way? I can have troops gathered by tomorrow. You can stay here as long as you need until the threat has passed just let me know - ”

Felix lifted his head and stepped back in a way that seemed almost reluctant. Sylvain couldn't let go yet so he grabbed his friend's forearms, keeping him from getting any further way while he awaited the dreaded news. Felix looked like he was struggling for the words to explain.

“Yes! No…I mean, I’m fine. Everything is fine. Good honestly. I’m good. Better than I have been in a long time. There is no danger, for once. I just…wanted to see you.”

Sylvain worked though the words trying to figure out what they meant. Everything was fine. Felix was good. He was just stopping by. After six years. Dressed as a woman. No big deal. Just wanted to say hello. He could feel his hands tighten around Felix’s arms but Felix did not so much as flinch, he simply accepted the pain. Sylvain barely noticed. 

“You wanted to see me. Now. Not once in the last six years do I hear a single word from you but now you want to see me? Do you know how I found you had disappeared? I received a fucking letter from the church stating you have passed your land into their holding and they asked me to help take care of it. Me! Do you know how many angry nobles there were who felt House Fraldarius was their birthright? How many confused merchants who couldn't make enough money to feed their families for the winter? How many bandits saw an opportunity and tried to ransack your home? I was here trying to keep two houses together without any support. None from the king, who we killed if you remember, and none from you. Just me. Alone. In this tiny corner of the kingdom which no one ever bothered to visit or ask about. You were supposed to be here Felix. We had an agreement. Do you remember? To always be there for each other until we died together. Well, I was here. I’ve been here.”

Sylvain felt himself running out of steam. He was angry - so damn angry. He had been clutching tight to all these thoughts for so long, holding everything together, being responsible since Felix wasn’t around to do it for him. It had been so exhausting and now all he wanted to do was curl up next to Felix and get back to normal. He took a deep breath, relaxed his body and refocused on Felix, really looked at him for the first time since they had entered the room. Maybe it was just the disguise messing with his perception but Felix looked smaller, softer, more vulnerable than before. His eyes looked like they could hold tears if Sylvain pushed too far, which he had not seen since they were children. He let go, setting Felix free. Free from his emotions that he couldn't seem to get a hold of. Felix spoke, sounding sad and repentant.

“It’s not much of an excuse, but I didn’t know. I thought Byleth, the church, I thought they were the best choice. I thought they would manage everything, even help you if needed. I didn’t realize. It makes sense now, there was so much cleanup to do. I guess I should have followed up. I was just so desperate to get away and not look back.” 

In a way, Sylvain understood. Sometimes the people who love you and need you are too much to handle. By the end of the war, Felix had a lot of people who loved him, and a lot of expectations. Just as easily as the anger had come, it left, and he felt hollow without it. He sat in the nearest chair, resting his head in his hands to try to get a hold of himself. He looked up just in time to see Felix sit as well, but with much more grace. He gently pulled the chair out, turned, arranged his skirts beneath him so they did not get crushed, and sat primly on the edge of the seat, ankles crossed. As he futzed with his hair to get it to lay correctly Sylvain had an odd moment where he saw a lady sitting across from him, as though it were Felix’s twin sister he was spilling his soul to. He shook his head to clear it and there was Felix again, looking at him through his hundred-year-old eyes, far too earnest for their true age. With a deep breath, he continued the conversation, hoping to undo the damage he had just done.

“It was hard and stressful, yes, but you know me, I’m a master at delegating problems to others who are more organized. After a few years, it was all mostly sorted out, as much as it ever is.”

“There wasn't a time in our lives you didn’t pull through when it mattered.”

“I also had the advantage of getting pretty much anything I asked for, what with being one of the great heroes who saved the world from certain doom and all.”

“You always did like the attention. The applause walking down the street, the adoration of ladies, the letters and gifts and survivor stories everywhere you went.”

“It’s true, I loved it.”

“I hated it! It was just constant echoes of everything I had never set out to be. I didn’t want to be a hero, or a duke, or a knight, or an heir-bearer. I didn’t know what I wanted to be. I only knew what I did not want, and that was everything I had. So I left. Ran away. Took the coward's way out and went to where I had fewer responsibilities. I headed north of the capitol to fight pirates for bounty. Told myself it was better, that I was keeping my skills sharp and helping people. I was too well known though, people still stopped me and asked for stories and blessings and everything was a reminder. So I went further west. At the border to the Empire, I donated my house furs to a homeless man and bought some plain leather. Joined a mercenary group I met in a pub in Arundel. I missed working with a team, but it wasn’t the same. The trust wasn’t there, I was too new and too full of myself. I still got sent on mostly solo missions but I stuck around because I didn’t know what else to do.”

He paused his telling, stared at the books behind Sylvain as he debated something in his head. When he continued, the words seemed to get stuck in his throat and he choked them out haltingly.

“They asked me who they should notify if I were to die on a mission. I didn’t know what to say. I put your name in the contract.”

Sylvain was torn between strangling him and pulling him back into his arms. He rolled his head back in frustration, trying to think of the words that would be the truth but not push them apart again.

“I used to imagine getting word of your death. Every messenger that walked up to me made me wonder if this was it, the time I would hear you had been found somewhere half-eaten by a dire wolf.”

He looked up in time to see Felix rolling his eyes. 

“I'm not quite that terrible at looking out for myself. Still, the thought of it gave me nightmares for weeks. I knew what that would do to you and the guilt ate at me, along with all the other feelings I had been running away from. Eventually, I just…stopped feeling. No sadness, no guilt, no joy, no anger. Just one mission after another. Eat, sleep, kill. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but it worked.”

Sylvain understood, although he still ached for him. “People used to try to help me find you by sending letters saying that you might have been seen somewhere, passing through. It was all rumor so I could never be sure. I even asked Claude for help but he just told me that you would show if you were ready. After a few years I stopped asking, didn’t think about it as often. I guess I gave up a little too. Sometimes we have to protect ourselves. You did what you had to do.”

Felix nodded. “When we got to Hevring there was a bounty we took up. A man who was kidnapping women and murdering them in their sleep. The local knights couldn’t, or wouldn’t, figure out who it was, so we had a plan to send the female of our troupe out to lure him into revealing himself. At the last second, she chickened out and refused to do the job. So I volunteered. I had still had my dancer costume -”

“You brought it with you all the way across the kingdom? Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately, stared out into nothingness. “It made me feel good.” was all he whispered. It was cryptic, and certainly not the full story, but Sylvain didn’t push further. 

“Anyway, I had an outfit that would draw the killer's attention so I volunteered. They teased me for days while we prepared. I just wanted to get the job done and collect the payment, save some girls from death if we succeeded. The woman, Diane, helped me get dressed and did my hair and make-up. Took her half a day, but she was proud when she finished. I looked in the mirror that night and I didn’t recognize who I saw. It wasn’t me. Felix was gone. I loved that. Needed it. I didn’t realize how much I had begun to hate seeing my own face, living in my own skin. I felt like I could breathe for the first time in years. I went out, did the job, killed the bastard. Left him lying outside our tents to be found in the morning and then ran off still in the dress and the make-up.”

Sylvain started to laugh, the idea of Felix scrambling around in skirts in the dead of night was too funny. A fiery look from Felix cut it off. It was as effective as any look from his mother or Ingrid had ever been. There was something about a female judging you and finding you unworthy that made you sit up and pay respect, so that was what he did automatically. With a look of repentance, he cleared his throat and apologized and asked Felix to continue his tale, doing his best to look like he was paying close attention. Which he was, of course. It was just different for some reason. He didn’t know why. 

With a nod, Felix continued. “It sounds strange to you probably, but to me it was revolutionary. I felt safer like this. I didn’t want to change back, but I also figured I couldn't pretend to be a woman forever and I just drifted for a while. Eventually, I ended up at the monastery.”

“You went back to Garreg Mach?”

“For a while. I had so many questions about what I was feeling and while I wasn’t exactly looking for religion, Rhea had always been so kind to everyone. I guess I trusted her the most to not judge me. I was able to get past all the knights without anyone recognizing me. Not even Catherine. It was Seteth who stopped me, appearing out of nowhere right as I was about to knock on Rhea’s door. Took one look at me, smiled, and knocked on her door for me. It felt better, having him there. They took me in and let me hide. Flayn taught me how to braid my hair and Rhea let me cry on her shoulder and Seteth would sneak meals and clothes up to me, whatever I asked for. It was there I really learned how to behave like a woman. One day Byleth came by looking for Rhea and she saw me putting on my make-up. She just started talking to me like nothing had changed and from then on she helped too. We would sneak down in the middle of the night to spar and that felt good. For the first time in my life, I was fighting for fun instead of to become stronger or prove a point. I danced again too, learned to move my body in new ways without feeling ashamed or have anyone laugh at me. Byleth helped me loosen up about how much make-up I wore or how many skirts I hid behind. She is female but didn’t bother with much of that, so I felt more comfortable easing back too. It helped me get back to being myself a bit, just a new version of myself. None of them questioned me no matter what I wore or how I acted.”

He paused then, tilted his head quizzically.

“Neither have you, Sylvain.”

Sylvain shrugged, hopefully looking much more uninterested than he was.

“You’ve been talking since the moment we got in here, telling this story. The important thing to me was that you were not in danger. Once I found that out, I figured you would tell me the rest. How did you think I would react?”

Felix looked down, looked guilty, but did not answer the question. It stung. Had he thought Sylvain would be upset? Why? He tried to listen to the rest of the story but the thought was on his mind and it disturbed him, whispering in the back of his head that he was not to be trusted. 

“I stayed with Rhea and learned to get more comfortable with myself and with this new me, but I was the only person I knew like this. My little circle, they accepted me but they didn’t feel the need to switch between male and female. They didn’t hate themselves. I started to get restless again so after the wedding Byleth suggested -

“The wedding? What wedding?”

“The Royal Wedding. Between Claude and Byleth…”

“YOU WERE AT THE WEDDING!! What the fuck, Felix!”

Sylvain shot out of his chair, needing to move. He stalked around the room, trying his best to contain himself. He had been there. He had sat with them at the feast, smiling at Rhea and wondering how much wine was polite to pour for a goddess. He had brought gifts for Claude and Byleth. He had signed the damn card with his name and Felix’s because he felt that Felix would have wanted to treat them as well. He had ached sitting there watching the festivities without his friend to celebrate with. There had been a constant empty space by his side that he was aware of and could do nothing to fill. It had taken months for that feeling of regret and sadness to fade again once he had gone home.

“Three days Felix. I was there for three days! You can’t tell me you didn’t know.”

Felix was drawn into himself, playing with the hem of his skirt. “I suspected.”

“YOU SUSPECTED?! You couldn’t have come down to say hello? Sent someone to get me to come see you? Passed a damn note!”

_“I was scared!”_

That shut Sylvain up. Scared of what? Scared of him? Felix dropped his skirt in disgust, wandered the other side of the room. He stood behind a desk which was just more distance between them and hurt just that much more.

“I was a woman most of the time. I couldn’t just wander around the wedding with all the students there without someone recognizing me. There were too many familiar faces and so I hid. Stayed upstairs and watched everyone come and go from the balcony.”

“I wasn’t asking about everyone else. I was asking about me. Why didn’t you want to see me? What scared you about me? That I wouldn't like you? That I wouldn’t accept it?

Felix shook his head. His voice cracked, but he told the truth and it broke Sylvain to hear it.

“I didn’t even get that far. There were all these scenarios that would play out in my head and they were all bad. I was scared you were with someone, that you had moved on with your life and forgotten me entirely. I was scared that you would see me and your eyes would pass right by, like I wasn’t worth seeing, like Leonie. I was scared you would be drunk and come on to me thinking I was just some maid at a party. I was scared if I came as myself then we would just start back up like nothing had changed, but I had changed so much that I couldn't accept that either. I saw no good outcome. I was paralyzed by everything that could go wrong so I just didn’t make a move to change the way things were. I wasn’t ready. I’m sorry.”

There was a hot ball of pain in Sylvain’s chest that was trying to burn it’s way through. Had he really been that bad? Maybe back at school, when they were young, but during the war he had tried his best to make amends and be serious. Had it not been enough? They stared at different corners of the room, lost in their own thoughts. Sylvain couldn’t find an answer. He hoped it would come later. He just had to focus on the good things.

“Well, you’re here now. So I guess you trust me. Now. Thank you for that. Thank you for coming. Whatever it was that happened to change your mind, I’m happy you are here.” 

Felix hurriedly agreed, clearly looking relieved. Sylvain stayed where he was, too anxious to sit, to be that close again, to mess everything up. Best if he just stayed still and listened. Felix continued.

“It was Claude of all people who helped the most, in his obnoxious scheming way. I went with Byleth as a court dancer to Almrya, hoping to start somewhere new. Claude had explained that the town he lived in had become a sort of refuge for those who were different and were not accepted by society. It sounded interesting. He couldn’t just leave me alone though because he compulsively utilizes the skills of everyone around him. He had a sort of spy army, led by Shamir and Cyril. There was no fighting though, just gathering information and reporting it. The idea was we were supposed to find the citizens who were suffering the most and find out why. What could be done to ease life for them? What changes could be made to national policy to make their lives more secure and safe? He put me in charge of investigating the differences between males and females socially and economically, since I could see from the perspective of either side. I had never thought of it before, really. In Faerghus women are just one way and men are another and we have our duties and that is all. Even knights have different expectations of them. I remember telling Ingrid once that she should give up being a knight and just get married. I really believed that was true.”

Sylvain nodded because he understood, but didn’t interrupt. He had a feeling they had come to the important part of the story and did not want to derail the telling now.

“I got lost in studying and writing about the hundreds of differences I found, many of which had nothing to do with the actual capabilities of either sex. Most were simply assumptions, or traditions, or fears, oppressing women but also forcing men into an unhealthy life of extreme manliness. While I was researching that, Claude sneakily sent me to a tavern that catered to people who were all…non-traditional would be the best way I could describe it. They had relationships that were looked down upon or they otherwise didn’t fit the mold for how they were supposed to behave. There were even people like me, who did not stick to one appearance or lifestyle. It took time but I spoke to people about this life, and about myself. I came to accept myself, and the fact that I could keep changing and keep exploring. That was why I couldn’t see you yet Sylvain. It wasn’t about the fact that you might not accept me. It was because I had not yet decided what I wanted to be. I was letting others define me instead of defining myself. That is why I could come here tonight, dance the way I did and talk to you like this. I like myself, whether anyone else does or not.”

It felt so good, hearing Felix say that, and pride welled within Sylvain replacing the uglier feelings of jealousy and deceit. He had to say something, to let Felix know everything was alright between them.

“I am glad to hear you say that, Felix. I always hated seeing you so miserable and no matter how many jokes I made, nothing seemed to cheer you up. This is a huge journey you have been through and I wish I could have helped you with it. I understand why it had to be this way, why you had to do most of it alone, but I am here with you now. Let me know if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, please. You are one of the most amazing people in the world and the fact that you know that about yourself now is all I could have ever asked for.”

Felix was still on the other side of the room, his arms wrapped around his own midriff. Sylvain heard sniffing and thought he saw tears running down his cheeks, marring the perfect make-up. He didn’t know if he had made it better or worse and was unsure what to do. 

“Sylvain,” Felix whispered, half hiccuping. “I really want to give you a hug right now.”

In a few large strides, Sylvain was across the room and had replaced Felix’s arms with his own. Felix reached up and hung onto his neck and Sylvain let him cry as long as he needed. When he had stopped crying they stayed glued to each other, drained but comforted and holding each other afloat. Sylvain whispered compliments and assurances to his friend but held back his instinctual physical attentions, like stroking silky black hair, or even worse, kissing it. Felix smelled like chalky make-up and some sort of sweet berry, and touching the warm bare skin around his middle was doing things to Sylvain that he hadn’t felt in years. This was familiar but so much more difficult now that everything was fresh and new. When it threated to overwhelm him, he stepped back to put an inch of space between them, for his own sanity. 

“So, Felix, now that you have all that off your chest, where are you going to go? What is next on your journey of self-discovery?”

Felix blinked at him, looking a little confused. Perhaps he hadn’t thought he would get this far. He looked down at the space between their bodies for a second, like it held a great mystery. Then he shook his head and became present in the moment.

“I’m hoping I can stay here for a bit. Get to know you again, as who I am now. Claude kept leaving these letters and reports all over the place that mentioned your name. I would come into the breakfast hall and there would be your name of some papers he just happened to leave behind, or a drawing of you from one of his spies, which he has everywhere by the way. One of the letters was one you had written him recently, with the invitation to this feast. Claude isn’t as clever as he thinks he is, but it was good of him to tempt me.I was unsure how to just show up out of the blue, but dancing at this feast felt right to me. I asked to come with the retinue and he just said, ‘of course’ as though he had expected it. He already had my bags packed for me and everything, along with this new outfit Hilda made. So you have him to thank, by the way.”

“I’ll make sure to let him know you arrived safely, and I will be thanking him. Probably for the rest of my life. I’m thinking one gift a month for the next thirty years should about cover it.”

Felix giggled and Sylvain backed up another inch. This Felix was a lot to handle. Which left some questions.

“If you stay here won’t people recognize you? How do you want me to refer to you? Do you dress like a woman every day? Do you have, like, a lady name?”

“Oh. No. I’m just Felix, no matter how I look. I’m sure at some point I will be found out, but I have no holdings anymore so it doesn’t truly matter. I don’t mind if people refer to me as sir or ma’am, I will respond to either. Sometimes, when I’m nervous like today, I tend to lean more toward female for strength, but normally I don't really think of it as dressing like a woman or like a man anymore. I just get up and get dressed in the morning and a lot of the time that includes a dress and make-up and hairstyling. Not because I’m trying to be a woman specifically. It’s just because I like the way they look on me. I like the feeling of the skirt hitting my ankles, or my hair braided, or my lips painted. It makes me feel beautiful. 

“You are beautiful.” Shit, he probably shouldn’t have said that. “I mean, I agree, you look, uh, good, and that it's important, that you feel good about how you look. I’ll let all the household staff know you will be staying and to prepare a room for you and to come to me if they have any questions. Let me know if any of them say anything to you. You know how it is here, but maybe we can bring some of what Claude created in Almyra to Faerghus.” 

He had tried to brush his reaction under the rug. Sylvain was so screwed. Felix was going to be staying and looking gorgeous and smiling and possibly hugging and he needed to get control of himself right the fuck now. He turned to leave but Felix reached out for his hand, pulling him back. Of course, he had noticed something was off.

“Are you sure about this? You seem uncomfortable and if it's too strange I understand, I can leave again.”

“NO! No, it's not that. I just need to get used to it. You were talking earlier about how we are trained to behave in certain ways as men and women? Well, I have some habits around women that I need to try not to apply to you.” 

“Like what?”

Sylvain didn’t really want to go down this rabbit hole yet, but Felix had been so open with his that he owed it to him to be just as honest. He tried to find something that wouldn’t seem so…creepy. Looking at your bare legs every time they peek out from the folds of your skirt was probably too much for him to hear. He searched Felix’s face, trying to gauge how ready he really was for this idea. Then it came to him.

“Your braid, it's coming undone. It’s very tempting to correct the loose hairs, brush them back so you don’t look so frazzled.”

“Do it.”

“What?!”

“Please? Fix my hair for me.”

His eyes were desperate, and Sylvain had never been able to deny Felix anything. As gently as he could, he reached up and tucked one long strand that had come loose at the nape of his neck back over his shoulder, then another near the top was tucked behind his ear. He couldn't seem to stop himself so he brushed all the tiny fuzzy bits back too, running his fingers down the back of the braid enjoying that Felix’s face was clear of any obstructions. He took his thumb and ran it along cheekbones that were smudged from crying to fix the black streaks, and then left his hand on Felix’s shoulder, where his neck was warm and soft. The gold glitter brought out the flecks of gold in Felix’s eyes and that made Sylvain smile. He felt Felix’s heart racing and saw his Adam’s Apple, faint as it was, bob up and down. His eyes were shining and blown wide. When he spoke he was breathy and excited. 

“Did you feel that? There was this spark wherever you touched me. Maybe it's my magic? Could it be you? The Gautier charm that drew all the women to you. Maybe because I feel more feminine now, I’m falling prey to it. Or you are confused and automatically seducing me. Maybe it's not my magic, maybe it's yours. Is there seduction magic?”

Sylvain barked out a laugh, took his hands off of his friend and used them to cover his face to hide the redness. Seduction magic? How did his brain work? He had felt this with many people, the attraction and the rush of skin on skin. To him, it was just natural, but maybe not so much for Felix. He couldn’t remember him ever dating. A tryst in the stable with some townsgirl was fully expected of most men by the time they were fifteen, but Felix had only been thirteen when his brother was murdered and he had already closed himself off from the world. Still, to think that he felt it now, with Sylvain, was surprising to say the least. He always figured Felix had no interest in him since he wanted to stay so far away. He scrubbed his hand through his hair and tried to explain.

“It’s not because you are a woman now Felix. I’ve always felt this way. When we would have sleepovers during visits before Duscur, laying out under the stars looking for constellations, I felt it. Wrestling in the mud in the rain over the last slice of pie, I felt it. When we helped bake that cake together for your dad and you had flour all over your face I felt the same urge back then to clean it off. I also understood I wasn’t supposed to. Like you said, stupid rules. We had duties to fulfill as heirs and knew our futures even back then. Then your brother died, and you became so serious. I knew you needed a friend, not a confusing teenage fling, so I never even bothered. But for me, it’s always been there. Not because you look like a someone else Felix, but because it's you. Just you.”

Felix stared at him, absolutely gobsmacked. Maybe that had been a bit too much. Too late to take it back now, but he could distract them while they both processed everything that had happened tonight.

“It sounds like the feast is still going. I did promise Dorothea a dance, and I am the host so I will have to be present when everyone begins to leave. I’ll have your room readied. Will the blue room be ok? It was always your favorite before.”

Felix nodded, looking a bit unsure of himself.

“You are welcome to stay here or re-join the party. It’s up to you. I’ll be near the entrance if you need me.”

“I think I will go back out and dance some more if that’s alright. I need to move around and let some energy out after all this.”

“I look forward to it.”

Felix looked down and blushed and Sylvain left the room as quickly as he could. If Felix ever learned how to harness his appeal, Sylvain was not going to survive. He found Dorothea back in her usual spot, and Jance nearby to wait on her. He told him to collect Felix’s belongings and where to arrange them. When he was finished with his instructions, Dorothea simply beamed at him. 

“I take it this means you are off the market?”

“That is awfully presumptuous of you. Besides, who would be asking?”

“You would be surprised who still thinks of you in the cold of night, Sylvain. You left a trail of broken hearts who are still wondering how you are faring up here, all alone and grumpy.”

“What about you? Last I remember you were carefully searching for a husband. How goes the hunt?”

“Wonderfully! Thank you for asking. I have several promises but I have told them all that I am not interested until my voice can no longer fill the Opera Hall, which will be a long time from now. Until then I still get a pretty paycheck and have no need of a husband to darn socks for.”

He laughed, amused. He could not see her knitting and cooking for some frumpy old man.

“You can tell the ladies that I’m just fine, thank you.”

“You certainly will be.” She gestured out into the crowd and there was Felix, dancing his heart out. Far less choreographed than before, this dance was wild and unrestrained. He had gathered another crowd of onlookers, and several men were trying to get closer, to get into his space to dance with the alluring women they saw. Felix deftly avoided all of them, not even acknowledging their existence. Every once in a while though, he would look up and meet Sylvain's eyes for the briefest of seconds. Then he would continue dancing, a secret smile on his face from knowing he was being watched. Sylvain made sure to always stay in eyesight even while speaking to guests, and it became a game between them. Felix would be distracting and Sylvain would pretend to stay sane.

Finally, far later than he would have liked, the last guest departed. Felix had left once the crowd started to thin, probably worried about being recognized. Sylvain found him in the kitchen, eating leftovers. He had bathed and changed into loose nightclothes and his hair was freshly braided and Sylvain realized he could easily get used to this. He sat down next to him and helped himself to a snack. They ate together in companionable silence for a while. When Felix rose, Sylvain offered to walk him to his room. Neither spoke on the way there. Sylvain was unsure how to start. What else should be said tonight? Should they just start fresh in the morning?

“Is this where you lean against the doorway and invite yourself in for tea? I seem to remember seeing that one a few times in the dorms.”

“Hmmm, you mean like this?” Sylvain pulled the move off flawlessly, arm up above Felix, leaning down and in toward him with a smoldering look, staring straight into his eyes with thoughts of a hot night. Felix sucked in a breath, clearly not prepared for the full force of the so-called ‘Gautier charm’ he had teased about earlier. Sylvain wondered how long he had found it charming for, and how close he had been watching all those years ago. For now, he laughed disarmingly and dropped the pose, stepping back into the safety of the hallway.

“Consider that payback for having to watch you dance all night without being able to join in. Who knows what rumors we’ve started. I’m sure there will be stories all over town about the enchanting, mysterious dancer and the Margrave.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think of that.”

“No harm done. Since you are staying and you are going to be Felix, we should probably behave a bit more in public if you don’t want people to think we are together. Many still assume I chase anything with a skirt even though I haven't bothered for years, so be aware of that.”

Felix looked torn. “I guess that makes sense.” He looked sad just for a moment before he lifted his eyes and surprised Felix once more with his sincerity. 

“When we are alone, if you happen to see my hair is out of place, feel free to fix it. I really liked that. It was nice. I don’t think I would mind anything like that.”

Sylvain felt something fall into place between them. It would be strange and thrilling and filled with possibilities, this new normal. He was excited to be part of the next stage of Felix’s journey and hoped he could work his way into the rest of it. 

“Get a good night of sleep, Felix. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You too Sylvain. Oh! Try to think of some way I can help around here. I don’t want to just take up space.”

Sylvain thought, wondered how far he could push, decided to take a chance.

“Well, we aren’t in need of a court dancer, but I did have a serving maid quit recently. I’m sure her costume is still hanging in a closet somewhere -”

The bruise he would sport for a week was well worth the delighted laugh he heard in exchange. With that laugh in his memory, he wandered to his bed excited about the coming days.

**Author's Note:**

> So I did a completely blind playthrough having no idea what I was doing and I adopted these two boys only to have the game tell me that they got a sad ending since I didn't play Blue Lions. It's was completely unacceptable and I had to fix it in my own way.
> 
> If you have questions or complaints about how I treated Felix's gender issues please keep in mind that it is all in the context of the world they live in, not our current world. They don't have the confidence and vocabulary we do. I chose each word and phrase very carefully for that reason. Discussion is fine. I am happy to take private criticisms @Artdefines06 on tumblr but please don't rage in the comments here, I will just delete it. 
> 
> If you liked this AU and want to write more about it, or are inspired to do something similar feel free and let me know, I would love to read it!
> 
> If you like Yuri on Ice, check out my profile for other works, that is my main fandom.


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